Taking a Second Chance
by What A Lovely Disaster
Summary: You win some, you lose some, but isn't that the story of all of our lives? TsengXMartial Arts Female TsengxElena eventually
1. Chapter 1

**Scream Your Heart Out**

**A/N: Square Enix Owns All**

**Forgive me for any liberties I may take, and drop me a review if I mess something up. *Hint* I noticed a lot of stuff I could have done better, but couldn't think of a better way to phrase some of this. The best way to remedy this would be to review. **

**Like, Duh.**

**Please?**

**I'm depressed, sleep deprived and caffeine-addicted. So yeah.**

**And while I'm wasting your valuable time, I APOLOGIZE for having to delete and resubmit this. I got confused by all the buttons the writer's page at offers.**

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"Yo, Tseng!" The world's favorite redhead sauntered into his superior's office with an easy grace.

"What now, Reno? I have work to do," the older man grunted, sounding rather annoyed. "If it's that Heidegger again, you can just tell him to shove that damn paperwork up that obese ass of his…" Though usually more calm than the behavior he was currently sporting, The Head of Public Maintenance and Order Division had been harassing Tseng about a particular document located in the Turk's database.

"Actually, we wanted to ask if you'd like to come to that new bar in sector three." Elena entered the room, and sat down next to Reno, who was straddling an office chair. Tseng briefly entertained the thought of an inebriated Reno singing (horribly), and even more quickly banished the thought. Rude, who had entered the room silently, just continued to have an intense staring contest with the ceiling tiles.

"There'll be lotsa lovely ladies." Everyone turned to stare at Rufus.

"When did he come in?" Elena asked. Everyone shrugged. Rufus was good at randomly awkward-izing any situation. Unfortunately, Reno was even worse:

"Unless you don't prefer women?" Reno commented, grinning suggestively; with a smirk that made fan girls worldwide collectively pee their pants.

Tseng glared at the Cheshire-esque redhead. "Out."

Reno stuck out his tongue. Must be all that time he spends with Kisaragi, the Wutain man thought.

Elena laughed, her golden eyes lighting up at her coworkers' antics. It was a chilling sound to Tseng. Memories came unbidden; memories he'd buried long ago now burst forth into full flower.

He could see _her_ in her smile.

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**That was fun. Kinda short, but whatever... Review if you have a soul.**


	2. Chapter 2

Hey. Long time, no see, eh?

Veld=Leader of the Turks

Reviews=Inspiration/Motivation THE FOOD OF MY FREAKING SOUL!!!!!*___*

Square Enix=NOT MINE

I CAN TELL YOU'RE READING THIS. I HAVE ACCESS TO STORY STATS. SO REVIEW. OR ELSE.

The characters I intro'd this chapter can be found at .com/final-fantasy-7-before-crisis/playable-characters (excluding knife.)

Tseng looked up from his work at the sound of the office door sliding shut. He blinked in surprise. When Veld had said he was sending in a new recruit, this wasn't what he'd pictured.

A young woman sauntered in and saluted, pale, delicate-looking fingers brushed a strand of ash colored hair. She was tall, with a slightly muscular build, and fine features. A faint smile played on her lips, as though amused with the world around her. Although she looked physically weaker, the Wutain noticed her posture was that of a fighter's—all balance and grace.

"Alyss Sayanore." She offered a hand, simultaneously dropping a heavy file on the wooden surface of his desk.

Tseng shook the offered hand, slightly surprised at the strong grip and calloused palms. "Tseng." He said by way of introducing himself, motioning for her to sit down.

She reclined gracefully in the chair across from him. They locked eyes over the desk, gazing intensely in a battle of wills. She had unusual eyes- garnet, with the unnerving glow SOLDIERS had- the result of Mako exposure as a child, he learned later.

"You know what you are getting into?" He searched her face for a hint of reluctance, or fear, but was met only with steely resolve.

"I am well aware, sir."

"Sign here."

After ordering uniforms, Alyss was given the n00b treatment, compliments of Reno. She met all of the other Turks. A blonde, taciturn gunslinger girl called Lyra was introduced; Alyss was given a cursory glance, which promptly returned to a large stack of files. Lyra was followed by a giant of a man, Kalan, who hailed from Costa Del Sol; he was also a martial artist. A shotgun artist (Azara), a dual gunner, (Cain), another redheaded electromagnetic rod-wielding-gangster (Seth), a swordsman (Ren), and a Turk who used an oversized shruiken. A/n I know it's not her real name, but for my brain's sake, we'll just call her Cissnei.

She learned that Turks worked in pairs, and guarded the President and his family in twenty-four hour shifts (and forty-eight hour weekends), at the end of which there was a vacation day. The Turks rotated constantly between missions, guard duty, and intelligence gathering.

Once all the introductions were complete, Alyss was assigned to a desk in the corner of the room, keeping a three centimeter thick inch questionnaire company.

**________________________________________________________________________**

Meanwhile…

"Tseng?" Veld called. Obedient dog that he was, Tseng made his way to his superior's office. Veld didn't waste time. "Now… the new recruits... they need partners…. The personality profiles are in.-- I think Azara will work well with Cain. And you can take Sayanore. She already has experience with espionage and assassination—ideal for what level you operate at." The leader of the Turks steepled his fingers. "Any questions?" The question wasn't really a gesture of caring and concern; rather, it was just a way of wrapping up their chat. Tseng, obedient dog that he was answered mechanically "yes sir." and walked numbly made his way out of the room.

He was so screwed. A Turk's partnership was close; closer than most marriages. It had to be. By company regulations, Turks weren't supposed to have sexual relations with their partners, their targets, or their peers. It still happened anyway. Although (among the Turks anyway), it was common knowledge that Seth and Mai had a more than professional relationship. Tseng told himself that he couldn't have that. He had taken too many lives, caused so much damage to other people's lives. With all the turmoil he felt, the idea of other, perhaps even more turbulent emotions seemed frightening. And some small, nagging part of him was looking forward to the long shifts with the new Turk, to learn more about her. And maybe... well, he'd get to that later.

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Well now. That was fun, wasn't it? Anyway, sorry if the male characters seem a bit odd. I'm a girl who's completely hopeless when it comes to guys, so I really don't interact with 'em much...lol. The closest I can get is through books and video games, which is, obviously not the best, especially when it comes to those lovely bishies XD. Anyway, if you've stuck through this far, I promise next chapter should be much better. Reviews are good for your karma, so do some good and help me out, por favor.


	3. Chapter 3

I… (Sniffle)… don't own it! Stop pointing your crazy corporate lawyer's fingers at meee!

Note: I TOTALLY Forgot about the knife –wielding Turk I found her on Wiki I think. Anyway that's who I was referring to when I said Seth and Mai last chapter. I'm a detail Nazi, so maybe you didn't notice. It really bothered me. XD

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Re: Training

All Turks are to report to the training arena for review today. Be there at zero nine hundred. No exceptions.

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The training area was a poured concrete basin, twenty feet long and fifty feet wide, and ten feet deep. It was cushioned by bloodstained, dirty, and torn mats that could be removed for cleaning, although it appeared as though that option hadn't been explored much. There were scorch marks from materia, and gashes in the fabric from the blunt practice weapons they use for training. Not blunt enough, apparently.

Above the arena were a couple of aluminum benches, some weights, and various other weight training machines. Ropes hung from the ceiling, and punching bags and training bots lurked in corners. There was a shooting range and an old storage cabinet that held protective gear and god-knows-what/whose old gym shorts.

Tseng was staring out the huge window that looked out over the city, which was shrouded in the seemingly ever-present cloak of rain-heavy clouds. The weather had been unbearably humid, another typical Midgar summer; thankfully, the gym had state-of-the-art air conditioning. He turned away just in time to see Alyss leave the locker room, tawny hair plaited down her back. She was wearing loose army style pants and a sinfully tight camisole that showed all sorts of lovely things. Wonderful, lovely things like the suggestive curve of her back, and the flat planes of her stomach.

She started to stretch and Tseng took the opportunity to stare at the lithe fighter. Muscle and tendons and bones stretched and rolled beneath pale skin, slightly marred by the occasional scar. She executed a perfect handspring before asking lightly, "Ready?" to which Tseng replied evenly "Bring it." It was one of the Midgar street phrases he'd picked up from Cain. Tseng thought it sounded terribly macho.

They climbed down into the pit, and stood before each other, weaponless. Slowly, they began to circle, eyes calculating and faces expressionless. Alyss lashed out, fist connecting with nothing but air, as Tseng jumped out of the way. She quickly reversed directions to evade the punch the Wutain threw at her, using his momentum to flip him over her shoulder. She could hear the other Turks cheering and calling out. I didn't matter to whom. She shut the noise out and concentrated on the fight.

Ten minutes had passed. Despite the difference in weight, the pair was evenly matched—for every hit one made, the other simply returned it threefold. Blood was pouring out of Alyss's nose, and Tseng was nursing a set of fractured ribs. The massacre probably would have continued for another half- hour if Tseng hadn't taken advantage of a slight hesitation on Alyss's part and cleanly broke her forearm. She sank to her knees, and Tseng collapsed nearby, not much better off.

Tseng felt the familiar warming sensation as his bones knit, and Alyss was enshrouded in her own green glow as Azara Healed them. Alyss wiped her bloody nose on her wristband, wiggled her hand, and grinned, admiring the newly fixed arm. She stood, and said cheerfully" I'd give you a hand up, but I don't think you'd want it." She held out a crimson streaked hand. He laughed and got up.

"Thanks" she said lightly.

"For what?"

"For not letting me win, just 'cos I'm a girl. I won a lot of fights that way."

"Maybe they were just afraid of you. You probably would have taken me out if it had gone on much longer."

"Maybe" was all she said as Reno helped her out of the pit. Tseng, not being female, and therefore of no interest to Reno, had to struggle out of the pit without help, near impossible if every muscle in your body was on strike. _Ow._

She was beautiful when she fought, he thought to himself. Almost elemental, a force of nature. He was pulled to her magnetic personality. He was neck deep in cliché, and didn't care. It was love at first sight, and no matter how many times he reminded himself that they had only known each other for three months, (not to mention that she _probably_ didn't feel the same way), his renegade heart jumped every time she looked at him. _Pathetic fool._ A voice much like that of his father's scalded his love struck soul. His father had been a big time businessman who had oozed confidence and bled arrogance. It was he who eventually drove Tseng out of Wutai—his presence left a shadow no mere man could ever fill, and Tseng sought out his own path. Funny; his current line of work also had no room for mistakes.

Which brought him back to Alyss, who was showering only a tiled wall away. The showers off of the training room were communal- this hadn't been a problem, except for a few instances with Reno, which had been quickly rectified. Now however, Tseng had dropped his soap three times, banged his head on the storage locker twice, and was currently indulging in an ice cold shower because he'd upset the rather temperamental shower handle. He hoped this wouldn't endanger his perfect job record.

Yeah, I put a lot of work into this, so could you, like, review? I currently have 457 hits and not a single review. TT. If you don't like it and think it should burn in the hottest depths of hell, that's ok too. You could tell me that, and not feel bad because we're all anonymous here.


	4. Chapter 4

Don't own it. Yet. (Ever.)

Thanks EchoNymph for my first review!!!^^

AND AS FOR THE REST OF YOU I know that you are reading this. I have access to stats. REVIEW or SMITE. Show your love/hate/indifference. You can even suggest I do something anatomically impossible. It's fun. I promise. Oh, and the relationship between Atsuki and Alyss is Nothing Creepy. I swear. Like Kenpachi and Yachiru from Bleach.

Two Weeks Later….

Alyss pushed the key into her apartment door, the cold metal felt heavy. It had been a long week, and Friday had never felt so good. The door clicked, and she stepped into the house, taking in the familiar sight. The stark white walls and the tiny kitchen with the clean white counter and refrigerator lent a feeling of austere sterility. It was comforting, though. She dumped her laptop bag on the black leather sofa, and dropped her keys on the glass coffee table next to it. She turned the television on and sat down, loosening her tie and shrugging off her jacket. The couch felt cool against her back as she pulled a blanket around her shoulders and drifted into oblivion….

Only to be jolted awake by the harsh sound of the phone. She gave herself a few seconds to compose herself before picking up.

"Hello?" She looked at the clock on the wall-- five thirty. She'd only been asleep for an hour. Sooo not long enough.

"Yo! Princess! How's it going?" the slightly nasal voice of Reno assaulted her ears.

"Hey, Reno. What's up?"

"It's Friday!" Pfft. Captain Obvious strikes once again.

"If my computer, phone, and watch didn't agree with you, I wouldn't believe it" she drawled sarcastically.

"Ow." He didn't sound the least bit hurt, continuing cheerfully. "Anyway, everyone's meeting at that one bar in sector three. It's called, like, The Crossroads Bar or something. Don't wear your uniform, though, or the ladies won't talk to us."

"Who says I'm going anywhere? I fully plan to sleep from now 'til Monday."

"I say you're going. It's team bonding!" He chirped. "'sides, I convinced Tseng to come. That _never _happens!" _hmm. Alcohol plus Turks equals positive results? _ It was the kind of logic only Reno could justify. But a drunk Tseng? That had promise.

"Fine. But don't expect me to drive anyone home." _Except maybe Tseng, _she thought deviously as Reno hung up.

Sure, her partner was hot. She would be the first to admit it. He was a gentleman, too. If they were two different people, maybe something would have happened between them. But they were Turks, and married to their work; so she did what she did best, and repressed.

She ended up jammed in a corner booth between Tseng and Mai. Seth was deep into a drinking game with Reno. Everyone had dressed 'normally', except for Tseng who would have looked weird in anything else. Alyss had chosen a pair of skinny jeans with zippers on the ankles, a pair of heels, and a skintight tee that hugged her lithe, if curveless figure. Veld and Lyra were absent, as was Kalan, as they were taking the weekend shift. At present, Tseng had had enough alcohol to be comfortable- and that's it. He hated the lack of control associated with Reno's version of tipsy, which involved blurred vision and stumbling.

A waitress swaggered up, neon pink bubble gum threatening to violate most health codes. "What can I get ya, hon?" She simpered to Alyss, her grating voice causing a slight twitching of eyelids.

"Sky Juice Caffiz." _I need caffeine. _The waitress returned, bringing a tall glass of something turquoise and fizzy. Alyss accepted the glass and took a long sip. The candy-like flavor masked the unpleasant bite of alcohol. She had a voracious sweet tooth; it didn't mesh very well with the 'cold killer' thing she had going, but she didn't care enough to try and hide it.

"Icicle…" Tseng drew the word out, lazily rolling the letters. "Is that where you grew up?"

"Kind of. By the time I entered the military, I had lived in every community population four people or more."

"The military?"

She rolled her eyes- the man was playing clueless. _Fine. _"You read my file. You really want to hear the whole story?"

"'Something as two dimensional as paper cannot convey emotion as well as the voice that tells the story' " he quoted eloquently, and then ruined it by drawling, "Ancient proverb or something."

"Once upon a time," She began, relenting, "There was a little girl whose mother, Vera, would do anything to feel good. Which, coincidentally, was how the little girl came about. Vera was not the mothering type." She paused, recalling glazed eyes and empty bottles littering the floor. "She _was_ the kind that was dunk when she wasn't high. Anyway, one day, after a really big binge, she hit the bottom of her bank account and all they had to eat was cereal. The little girl, who by now I think you know very well is me, made the mistake of complaining. She must have hit me with a bottle or something, because next thing I know, there's blood everywhere, and I'm halfway down the street sans shoes and coat. I made it a mile before I collapsed. All alone and five years old."

"When I woke up, it was in a hospital bed. The man who had found me was a warrior traveling the world, who had just arrived in Icicle when he found me. After the hospital released me, he tried to give me back to my mother. She hit the Big Three when she saw me back at her doorstep: betrayal, responsibility, and finders keepers."

"The man who found me, Atsuki, became my teacher and my brother. He could have dropped me off at the next orphanage, but instead, took me in. We lived in every city population four or more. He taught me everything I know today. When I was sixteen years old he was called home to take care of his aging mother. He offered to let me come as well, but I declined. Before we parted ways, we got matching tattoos. Kind of tribal."

"Where'd you get them?" Tseng asked.

"A little shop in Wutai."

"Err….I meant…that is, where on your body?" He stammered.

"I know. I was just giving you a hard time." She mad a motion as if to lift her shirt, laughing at Tseng's bulging eyeballs, and instead unzipped the sleeve of the leather motorcycle jacket she was wearing. Long, fluid strokes took up the area between the inside of he wrist to the crook of her arm, forming obsidian black characters. It took him a moment to realize it was Wutain script, and translated.

"Fate." His voice was low, dangerously seductive. He absently traced the outline of the tattoo with a long, narrow finger. Alyss shivered, making the mistake of looking into his eyes; they were as black as the sins they promised.

A bit abrupt, but I'd like to have y'all begging for more. How bout a review, folks?


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own anything. Not event the computer I type this with. I barely own my ideas.

I guess I should explain the style of the story a bit. Each chapter centers on a particular event that shows the progress of the characters. Hope that helps. It's not a typical problem-resolution plot. Kind of like a bunch of one shots that make a story. Only someone as screwed up in the head as I could ever come up with something this … screwed up. XD umm… Yeah. Okay! On with the fic!

**One year after chapter two. They have established a close friendship, and have lost the awkwardness, although occasionally, they have their moments.**

She was hurt, and it was his fault. Or, more accurately, he decided to blame himself. Tseng shifted slightly in the unyielding chair jammed next to the infirmary bed. Monitors and screens bleeped and blinked, charting the heartbeat of the ghost of a girl next to him.

_It should have been me, _he thought, going back to the moment when a gunman had appeared out of nowhere, crosshairs trained on his forehead. The panic on his partner's face as she shoved him out of the way became an image burned into his mind. He could feel her ragged breath; taste the coppery tang of her blood.

Twice the gunman fired- one bullet in her stomach, another splitting a wide gape of flesh on her side as it passed her by. Twice her heart had stopped from blood loss. And twice she shifted now, in the sterile confines of the bed. Tseng continued to brood.

"You idiot." Her voice came at his elbow, slightly raspy from her two day sleep. "Why do I spend so much time trying to save you, anyway? You just end up looking down a barrel again." Alyss coughed, clearing her throat. "I must like you or something." She was teasing, although there was genuine concern there.

"You're awake. How're you feeling?" He turned to look at her. The hospital gown had slipped, revealing a pale angular shoulder. _Oh, Leviathan._

"Good enough to care that medical facilities still don't provide adequate clothing." She grimaced at the feel of the loose cotton garment doing it's best to violate her in every way possible. Tseng laughed, knowing all too well.

"You owe me" Alyss teased lightly. "You could have died." She grew serious, turning to look at him, a cascade of ashen hair falling over her face. "I don't think I could ever forgive myself if anything happened to you, and I could have done something about it." _I've got your back. No matter what. _It was a promise she intended to keep.

"We're Turks. No one will mourn us. No one should."

"We're humans," she countered. "Someone will."

He sighed, felling three times his age. "Are we human? Sometimes I wonder." He whispered. Alyss still heard him.

"Human enough to question it." She left him with this thought, as doctors swarmed in, pulling and poking and removing tubes and wires.

"All set! You can leave any time!" an overly cheery nurse chirped. _Finally. _She hated medical facilities.

Tseng drove her home, following her vague mutterings to a huge high rise apartment building. The apartment she called home was immaculate, luxurious and very… showroom-esque. Black and white stood in stark contrast, accompanied by brilliant flashes of crimson. "I'm a design parasite." She volunteered. "Never had time to develop my own personal style, so I just copied the models at the store." She tilted her head. "Is there anything I can get you? My skills as a hostess were pretty much destroyed when I bought my first package of instant ramen, but there might be some coffee left." Tseng declined, laughing. "No need. However, if _you_ need anything, just call me." He headed toward the door.

"Don't worry" she reassured him. "Thanks for looking after me." Slyly, she added: "It's the _human _thing to do." Tseng, struck by the irony, smiled to himself, and started the ten minute journey home. _Hook, line, sinker. _He didn't mind. Not at all.

Alyss, on the other hand, had absolutely no room in her weary mind for love. She tossed her clothes into the trash—she didn't have an extra uniform at work, or an extra key to her house. Instead, the infirmary had supplied her with a basic set of pajamas – one size fits all – and thus of no use to her. She preferred clothes that didn't need inflatables to stay on.

She walked into the massive bathroom, with its gleaming silver chrome fixtures, sunken bath, and spacious shower. Alyss turned the water to HOT and sat beneath the showerhead, letting the spray melt sore muscles into pliant goo, watching the steam rise over the shower door. It was only when she felt like she was going to ooze down the drain with the water that she got up and actually washed, scrubbing her skin of three shower-less days. The heavy, lulling scent of lavender and roses filled the room as she used copious amounts of bath products to forget the past few days of toil.

Alyss emerged from the shower lobster red and feeling much better, shrouding her body a ridiculously large and fluffy towel and crawled into bed to finish sleeping off the anesthesia.

Tseng paced in his own apartment, which was similarly furnished to Alyss's, also in subdued colors. Work was stressful enough without being surrounded in bright colors. In fact, the sight of bright orange immediately reminded him of Reno, who was the source of Tseng's very first (And so far, only,) grey hair. But I digress.

Running his fingers through his hair, the Turk eyed the phone. Like a worried mother on his child's first day of school, Tseng was imagining all the misfortunes that could befall his injured partner. He had worn the numbers off of his phone dialing and redialing her number. He never actually called, though. Gods forbid he wake her. The phone rang, and he answered it before the first ring had ended.

"Waiting by the phone, were you?" Alyss's voice was warm, but was slightly exasperated. "Don't deny it, sir, I saw you doing the same thing when Reno was hurt. Even if you say no one will mourn our deaths, you don't mean it. You'd take that to the grave." _Damn. She was perceptive. A Turk through and through._

"I was concerned, yes." He would give her that much.

"You should get some rest, sir."

"Is that what you called to tell me?"

"Not really."

"Not really?" He parroted.

" I hate to bother you, but I need you to pick up my pain meds. They're at the pharmacy." She gave him directions, and thanked him again.

Alyss was in more-than-slight pain by the time Tseng arrived, carrying a paper bag with ice cream and medicine. "How're you feeling?" He asked. Pale and blank eyed, wrapped in a nest of blanket, she smiled gratefully at Tseng and slugged the medicine back with a gulp of ice cold water.

They chatted for awhile, discussing everything from weapons to the weather. As the drugs she had taken earlier began to take effect, she sank deeper and deeper into a fuzzy, detached world. Tseng, who was sitting across from her at the kotatsu in the living room, noticed that Alyss was a scant seven inches from his face , propped up by an elbow and a prayer, slowly sliding forward on the smooth wood surface. At a rather uncomfortable three inches of personal space, her arm gave out, and her lips grazed his for what seemed like years, like stopped time and eternal sunrise. The fleeting sensation sent heat through his body. _A… kiss? _He wondered if this counted. She smelled of lavender and roses, an intoxicating miasma that sapped his strength, leaving him weak and utterly vulnerable. It seemed the drugs had finally kicked in, the painkillers carrying her off into a wonderland of euphoria that only prescription strength drugs could. Her breathing was deep and even, and Tseng picked his partner up up, cradling her close, taking this stolen moment, and memorizing it. The dark haired man laid her on the couch, pulling a blanket over the lithe body of his partner, and tenderly brushing a tendril of tawny hair from her forehead. If nothing else, he would have these memories.

"Sorry I fell asleep on you!" Alyss apologized, her cheeks stained a pale pink from embarrassment. The pair was back at work, and doing battle with an enormous stack of paperwork. "What were we talking about? I remember asking you about that new Mako cannon thing, and then…..Poof!" She shrugged.

"It was nothing." _Just as well she doesn't remember it. _Tseng thought. _It's better this way, really._

If you can tell me where I got that last part from, I'd be pretty impressed. Reviews are desperately needed. O.o


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